Songs of a Death God
by ArashiAkurei
Summary: AU "On the night of his seventeenth birthday, she will come to claim his soul." Everything's all fun and games until you have to gamble for your life with a death god. Kyohei/Sunako
1. Fated to Die

**Disclaimer:** No, I don't own Wallflower. If I did, there would be more going on than just Kyohei and Sunako stumbling around in denial.**  
Author's Note:** How this was inspired by Sleeping Beauty and Death Note, I do not know. All I do know is that Kyohei is not going have to kiss any strange princesses in this. Enjoy!**  
Warnings:** AU, and as IC as it can be for me. Trying to keep it true but my version of Sunako always has more of a backbone/attitude, so yeah.**  
Summary:** "On the night of his seventeenth birthday, she will come to claim his soul." Everything's all fun and games until you have to gamble for your life with a death god. Kyohei/Sunako

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**Songs of a Death God**

**First Chapter**

**"Fated to Die"**

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For the first time in her life, Sunako ran so hard that the pain in her legs hurt so much they became numb. Her lungs felt strained and her heart felt like it was going to implode inside her ribcage. Still, she did not care, the dread pooling in the pit of her stomach as her feet carried her through the forest, branches snaring her dress and raindrops falling into her eyes. The wind howled mercilessly, but the woman kept running as if it was the only thing keeping her alive. She came upon the opening in between two sturdy oaks, and vaulted over the bush that stood in her way. Instead of sturdy ground, she landed in freezing water, and waded across the shallow river, rocks slicing the soles of her feet to bits. She couldn't feel it though; the adrelanine pounded through her veins, and she pulled herself to shore and kept sprinting.

Blood. She could smell it. _Oh dear god, please..._

As her feet carried her up the hill, she froze at the sight laid out in front of her. Corpses. By the hundreds. She searched frantically through them with her eyes; there was movement in the center of the pile of dead bodies. A man with raven black hair was dragging himself through the puddles of mud and rust and blood, his legs no longer of use. Sunako could see the trail of blood from here.

He looked up like a deer in headlights when she approached in a flurry of black and white and purple, and even more so when she reached out to help him. He batted her hands away. "No! Keep your hands away from me!"

"Aoi-san, please, let me help you! You're bleeding... oh god..." She murmured, biting her pale pink lips as she reached out once more, and the man swore, but he was too weak to keep her away and found himself laying across her lap. He groaned in pain as she moved away the fabric of his pants to assess the damage. It was too late to do anything about it, really, but Sunako was not one to give up. She tore the bottom of her dress and tied it around the wounds in an effort to stop the bleeding. Even without looking, he could tell it was a failure.

"Sunako... you shouldn't have come." He murmured; she had managed to catch what he said above the roar of the storm and gazed upon him with her soft brown eyes. He thought the pain was getting to him when they briefly flashed purple, but only shook his head. "The... prophecy..."

"I don't care about that! They're wrong about it anyway, help is coming soon!" She cried angrily as she gripped his shoulders so hard her knuckles turned white. "You'll live! And they won't be able to do anything about it!"

"Sunako..." His expression was ridden with pain and sadness as he faltered, but slowly reached up to caress her cheek as he blinked away the raindrops and tears. "You didn't hear all of it, did you?"

"What?" Her delicate fingers wrapped around his hand, and he coughed, shifting in her lap. "What didn't I hear?"

"The prophecy...in full..." Her eyes searched his for answers, and he gave a weak chuckle. "It's not the death gods that kill me..."

"What?" He gave her a melancholy smile as she pulled him closer. "Then what does?"

"Sunako." He didn't answer her, but put both his hands on her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

He leaned in, and pressed his chilly lips to her soft ones in a gentle kiss. Sunako froze at the sensation of electricity running through her and slowly responded, closing her eyes. Aoi pulled back, and gave her one last look. The irises of his eyes were dark and stony, a sharp contrast to the gentle feelings of endearment and love from before. Almost similar to...hatred.

"It's you."

Sunako's blood ran cold as ice.

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"On the night of his seventeenth birthday, she will come to claim his soul."

Kyohei would've pegged it as horribly romantic, if he were a romanticist and death gods weren't actually going to rip his soul when he was the ripe, young age of seventeen. As it were, he was still far too young to think that now, being only five years old, but twelve years down the line, it stuck with him and plagued his dreams every night. Right now, his parents blanched, eyes widened as they stood and stared at the blond woman standing in front of them, kneeled. Her hair fell in waves down her back, her petite figure not made noticeable by the loose black robes she wore, and the cloak on top of it. If she weren't pale as a marble statue with blue lips like that of corpses, she would've been a smashing model. Kyohei wondered what the bandages around her eyes were for.

As it were.

"Surely this must be a joke of sorts." The queen mumbled, shocked. "You can't possibly be serious about death gods coming to _kill_ my son."

"On the contrary, I am entirely serious. He will die." The woman said firmly.

"Who are you to decide where my son lives or dies!?" The king roared, slamming his fist on the arm rest of his throne. "What is this rubbish about fate and destiny!? Is it money you want? A ransom? Are you _threatening_ the heir of the royal family!?"

"I do not decide." She spat out, and the queen and king quieted down. "I am merely the messenger. Feel free to help him escape his _fate_, but it's not been done since five centuries ago. I can count how many people have managed to escape their deaths on one hand. Do not think that it is simple."

"But it can be done?" The queen asked. _How?_ was the silent question everyone had.

"Yes. You have twelve years, your highnesses. Better not let it be a waste." The woman smirked, and the king snarled as he stood up, waving at the soldiers.

"_ARREST THIS WOMAN!_" Kyohei clutched his mom's hand as all the men in suits rushed at the woman in the center of the room in an attempt to carry out the orders, but to no avail. The woman stood up and gave the king and queen and eyeless glance, and Kyohei too before she vanished with a loud crack in a dark puff of smoke.

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The rain had long since stopped, but Sunako did not move.

She held loosely onto the limp body in her arms, mud caked on her bare feet and legs, and staining her white dress. The man's skin was pale, his lips blue, and horribly cold. Strangely, hers was too beginning to turn into that pale shade, but she was still breathing. Even stranger was that her mind was perfectly clear, not bogged down by illness or fever, even with mounds of rotting flesh surrounding her. Lifeless. How she felt. The tears had run dry long before dawn, and she could not bring herself to get back up on her feet and walk back to civilization. Surely Aoi didn't keep this a secret from _everyone_. And if someone did know the prophecy, they would not accept her. They'd hunt her down in an attempt to get revenge for the death of the son of one of the noble families. And what was Sunako? Nothing more than a servant girl. A dispendable life.

She dug her nails into his shoulder and she breathed in sharply, a chill running down her spine. She no longer had a home to go back to.

Strangely, she didn't feel at all sad about that. She shifted, slowly moving the body to the ground as she made to stand up when a harsh wind blew through the clearing. An ominous feeling ran through her and Sunako flung herself around to face the direction that the wind was blowing from. A blond woman stood on a pile of dead bodies, a smirk on a face. Bandages were wrapped around her eyes, but Sunako could somehow tell that they were filled with mirth. The breeze caressed her long blond locks, the cloak fluttering in the wind. A dark aura surrounded her, however, and she looked as lifeless as the bodies in front with her, minus the blood and wounds.

"Well hello there, Nakahara Sunako."

"Who... are you?" Sunako asked, backing away cautiously. The woman laughed gently as she waved her hand.

"My name's not important. You'll have centuries to find out what my name is." She gently leaped off the pile of bodies, yet it seemed as if the wind carried her far to where Sunako stood. It looked effortless for the woman. "The important thing is that you've carried out the first assignment."

"What?" Sunako felt as if it were the new multi-purpose word.

"He would have lived, you know, if you had stayed behind in the village." Was this a guilt-tripping game? Sunako didn't feel up to it.

"Get to the point!" She snapped. A current rippled through the air and the woman held up her hand. Sunako didn't see the purpose of the gesture until the piles of dead soldiers near the woman exploded. She gasped as the woman shook her head.

"Always impatient, newbies." The blond woman cleared her throat. "You do realize that you're no longer alive, right Sunako?"

"What are you talking about, I'm breathing, aren't I?" Sunako retorted as she stared the woman down.

"And what about your pulse?"

"Of course I have a pulse, otherwise..." She pressed a finger to her own neck. Nothing. Sunako touched her own cheek and stared at her fingers. Frigid. "I'd be... dead."

"Enlightened yet?"

"No! Why is it that I have no pulse but I'm still breathing!? It's not like I'm a soul ripped out from its own body! I'm not lying down in the mud like Aoi either! What happened?" She grabbed the woman and shook her.

"You've become a shinigami." At Sunako's confused gaze, she explained. "Dear, you're a death god."

"..._What?_"

"It makes sense, doesn't it? How else could you kill your one love simply by _being near him_?"

"But it can't be! I was human!"

"Most death gods were human once."

"Then what changed them!?"

"Circumstance." The woman breathed. "Fate. Destiny."

"I don't believe in that." Sunako growled, but the woman was infinitely patient and only smiled in return.

"You don't have to. Whether or not you believe in it, you have a destiny. And it will carry out."

"Then... how..."

"Come with me." Sunako looked up at the woman, wishing she could see through the bandages. The woman held out a pale hand, and she stared warily at it. "Come with me, and I'll show you. You no longer have a home now that you've become a killer, now do you?"

Sunako faltered for a moment, emotions storming. Still filled with doubts and regrets, she gently took the woman's hand and gazed up with her now piercing and frozen purple eyes.

"No. I don't."

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AND THAT'S THE FIRST CHAPTER.

Please don't let me abandon this fic like I did to my others.

Anyway, tell me what you think. This plot bunny struck me out of nowhere, and I feel guilty for not working on my other stories... so....

**Next chapter: **Gambling With a Death God


	2. Gambling With a Death God

**Disclaimer:** Do I own Wallflower yet? Guess not.**  
Author's Note:** Need... to... write... better. Or my future English professor will destroy my soul. ;-; Anyway, here's the second chapter. I apologize if I make any typos. I hope I don't.

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**Songs of a Death God**

**Second Chapter**

**"Gambling With a Death God"**

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"Kyohei, can you help me get that box on the shelf over there?"

"Kyohei, can you help me win this game? The other team scares me!"

"Kyohei, _will you marry me!?!?_"

All the girls in the class squealed indignantly. Kyohei shifted his hand a bit, resting his chin on the palm. Sometimes, he wished lightning would strike him dead where he stood. Of course, life never particularly favored him and the girls kept hovering over him spewing forth all sorts of questions. Some appropriate, some they should be killed for. The prince's eyes narrowed dangerously, the brown orbs shining amber under the patch of sunlight that shone on his desk through the window. If there was one thing he wished for, it would be to get rid of his devilish good looks. Such a thing was a plague wherever he went. He could get women to swoon at the mere sight of him, get them to faint from impressive nosebleeds by smiling. His charm even worked on some men, for chrissakes! If he had not been "blessed" with his appearance, he was sure no one would pay half the attention they do now to him. Sure, they'd be a bit bothersome still--he was a prince after all, but they wouldn't be _sexually harassing_ him in the corridors of the school he attended.

Quite fed up with the attention, he threw open the window and jumped straight out of it. Kyohei landed softly on the grass, the height from which he jumped causing his feet to sting a bit, but other than that he was quite fine. Giving one more irritated glance to the spectators on the third floor, he strolled straight off the grounds of his school. No one dared to stop him.

Unbeknownst to him, and to everyone for that matter, a girl stood on the edge of the roof of the school. Her long black tresses fluttered silently in the breeze, and she was clothed in robes that vaguely resembled a kimono, only the obi of this was quite larger, but nowhere near as restraining. All of it, pure black, exuding a dark aura that reeked of death. Despite the bandages that hid her eyes, she followed the boy with them, as if she could clearly see where he was. Her lips flattened into a thin line as she frowned.

"So that's him... strange..." she whispered. The girl shook her head and gazed out at the horizon. A beautiful sight, one that she could not see. She took a deep breath and hopped off the roof.

Seconds later, she vanished into thin air.

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"Kyohei, I heard you skipped out on school yet again."

Kyohei raised his head to look over his shoulder from his comfortable seat on the couch in his bedroom. A man with soft, silky red hair stood by the entrance of his room, a charming smirk on his face. The only person in the palace that Kyohei managed to get along with, but still wanted to strangle to death: the womanizer and noble, Ranmaru Morii.

"You know how I can't stand the shrieking masses of rabid fangirls, Ranmaru." The prince went back to watching his slasher movie, neglecting the piles of paperwork and etiquette lessons that every prince had to deal with. Ranmaru smiled and walked in, sitting down on the couch next to Kyohei.

"Well, we can't escape it, being nobility. You, especially. You do have to pick someone to be your future queen, after all." Seeing how Kyohei tensed up at the mention of picking someone to be his bride, Ranmaru sighed in mild annoyance. "Kyohei, stop acting like a little boy. You _are_ turning seventeen next week after all. Both the king and queen expect you to be engaged before you're eighteen with a princess of noblewoman of your choosing or they will arrange marriage _for you_."

"I don't need you to tell me that, you unfaithful player." Kyohei hissed at Ranmaru as he got up and shut off the television. "The day your parents wed you to a woman is the day I'll die laughing because you'll no longer be able to chase after married women and coax them into bed with you."

"Hey, a wife isn't going to stop me from flirting. I'm a free spirit after all."

"Yeah yeah," Kyohei frowned. He could've sworn he saw a woman outside the window. Maybe he was just getting paranoid. "It's dinner time, isn't it? I'm _starving_."

"A starving prince? That's an oxymoron in itself."

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Just past a quarter after eight, Kyohei plopped back down on his couch with a pleased sigh. The chefs never failed to please with their culinary masterpieces, that was for sure. However, as dense as he may seem in public settings, he tended to notice things other people don't. One thing he definitely noticed was how tense his parents looked earlier tonight, their faces grim as they ate and even when they laughed over the most recent bit of news of how Ranmaru got caked in the face by a woman he was playing. After dinner, his father had handed him a nondescript envelope, and the boy didn't doubt that it had something to do with the incident twelve years ago.

_On the night of his seventeenth birthday, she will come to claim his soul._

Kyohei scoffed. As if he'd let some death god just waltz in here and rip the life straight out of his body. There were still many things he needed to do, like join a bike gang! Or not, but he certainly didn't want to die a week from today. He swung the envelope around to make sure the paper slid to the other edge before tearing it open and pulling out the letter. The handwriting was small but elegant, that of his mother's.

_Kyohei, I am sure you are aware of what day it is. Only seven days until that so called death god arrives to take your life away._

Seven days. Kyohei tapped his chin. Didn't that come from a movie somewhere?

_In any case, we will carry on. There will be a ball the evening of your birthday, we are inviting various nobles. Perhaps it is my own futile hope that the death god won't come if you're surrounded by others. We have spent twelve years trying to find a way to help you ward it off, to escape your "fate." And for almost twelve years, it has been hopeless. Only recently did one of our sources find someone that might be able to help you. We have contacted this woman in hopes that she will be able to provide us with a way to do so. Unfortunately, she will only help you and has refused to meet with our men, even us in person._

_She'll only tell you. Her name is Kasahara Naie. She lives on an estate on the edge of the city in the woods. We've arranged for a limo to take you there at noon tomorrow. Hopefully, you will find some way to change your destiny_.

_All the love in the world,_

_Mom_

Noon tomorrow, huh? And a limo? Kyohei shook his head and folded up the letter, tossing it aside. No, he was going to take a more unconventional method.

But before that, he needed to get some rest. The prince stretched and gave a loud yawn before trudging to the bathroom.

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"Rise and shine, stubborn prince! There's lots to do today, lots of women to court! Lots of--" The rapping on the door stopped as soon as Ranmaru peered in, realizing the room was empty save for a maid who stumbled out of the bedroom with a pile of dirty laundry. "Where's Kyohei?"

"Oh, the young master left just now! He said he had a meeting with someone at noon and wanted to pop in early?" The maid shrugged as she hobbled out of the room without so much as giving Ranmaru a second glance. Huh. Despite being on the third floor with the windows closed, he could hear the roar of an engine and dashed over to the window just in time to see a motorbike tear out of the courtyard and nearly flatten the guard at the gate. The noble sighed in exasperation. "Trust that prince to leave here on the back of a monstrosity instead of plush seats in a limo..."

Style over comfort wasn't what Kyohei was into, but he didn't want to deal with a slow driver, traffic, or anything of the like. He'd much rather risk his life on the back of a bike than arrive there safely. That much was obvious when he made another haphazard turn as the engine roared, his legs almost grazing the ground. He steadied himself and tore through the traffic, weaving through cars and the occasional slow pedestrian. It wasn't long until he found himself staring at less and less housing and more and more trees.

At the fork coming up, he veered towards the left, and found himself on a small road amidst a forest of bamboo. Quite a serene sight, with all the light that filtered through the leaves green and nowhere near as bright. The road continued for a bit more before it broke into yet another fork, and Kyohei chose in favor of the small, paved road instead of the large one. This road opened up to a clearing with a drive way that circulated around an elegant fountain that you'd see in the courtyard of European royalty, not Japanese nobility. However, the house beyond the gate was Japanese culture at its most refined and traditional state. Kyohei came to a halt in front of the steel gates and gently propped one of his legs down on the now paved stone road to steady his bike in its idle state. The prince turned his left wrist in and peered at the watch through his helmet.

Eleven. An hour early.

He removed his helmet temporarily and nodded at the curious guards that eyed him cautiously. "Kyohei Takano here, I have a meeting arranged with the lady of the house at noon? I'm early." Brief introduction, as required of him in the presence of any nobility. Sometimes he wished they would just recognize him and skip the customary hello and skip to the important business at hand. The men nodded, and Kyohei slipped his helmet back on.

"To the left and back is where you may park your vehicle, young lord." Kyohei rolled his eyes at the title but nodded, speeding past them to the designated place.

A spectre stood on one of the knarled branches overlooking the courtyard, and although she was in plain sight the men were not aware of her existence. She quietly drifted over a bit with every intention to follow Kyohei inside the mansion, but was met halfway with something feeling entirely similar to a _wall_. The woman grunted in irritation as she turned her attention to directly below her. No walls. Open air. Yet her hand clearly told her there was in front of her. Her lips pulled back as she grit her teeth; it was a _ward_ made specifically for beings like her. Fine. She had bigger fish to fry than some stubborn prince.

She floated back and dissolved into the shadows, right when Kyohei hopped the three steps to the main entrance and disappeared inside once the guards had granted him access.

The estate smelled of sandalwood and incense, slightly overpowered by the smell of the forest outside. It was refreshing and completely unlike his own place of residence, natural and spiritual. He was led by the guards to a large room with plush red cushions, a low table, and incense in a small jar of ashes by it. On their sign of approval he seated himself at the table facing the shoji screens that were dark, with no shadows fluttering across it from leaves flying in the wind.

He heard soft footfalls to his left, and turned to see a girl around his age descend from the stairs. She was clothed in a dark violet kimono with a yellow butterfly design along the sleeves and held together by a gold obi with red chrysanthemums. Refined and elegant with her brunette hair strung up in a knot, her green eyes gentle, she slowly smoothed out her kimono as she kneeled into the infamous _seiza_ position, and he discretely shifted into the position also, as uncomfortable as it was. The woman nodded in acknowledgment and smiled warmly.

"Hello, young lord Takano." She lowered her head slightly. "Welcome to my estate. I am Naie Kasahara, although I would prefer that you call me Noi."

Kyohei's eyebrows rose in sheer surprise. "You're the one that can help me?" Noi hid her lips behind her hand as she smiled.

"Surprised? You were expecting an elderly woman, right?"

"One on the verge of being insane, or worshipping severel deities." Kyohei agreed without hesitation. Noi laughed softly, the sound smooth and gentle as she regarded the man with glimmering eyes.

"My great-grandmother was the one who managed to escape the fate of having her soul taken by a death god." That made much more sense. "She passed on the knowledge to me. Apparently, those who escape their fate are plagued by visions of another of the victims that would be closest to their future generations of children."

"Closer? But you haven't met me before today."

"Indeed. It doesn't mean location though. After all, destiny has a fun way of playing with words to jinx you. When did the death god visit your home to warn your parents?" Noi began shuffling around in her large sleeves as Kyohei followed the movements of her hand, digging through memories.

"Around my fifth birthday."

"Strange, don't you think, that my great-grandmother died the next year? On your birthday?" Kyohei shook his head, still not convinced. "A lot of people die each day, I'm aware, but death gods rarely come to the human world to inform the relatives of a future death. They leave it to the lower-level gods to play with the strings of fate that causes accidents. In a way, it's sort of an honor to have your soul stolen by a shinigami."

"I don't see any honor in _dying _before your prime." Kyohei glared at her, his brown eyes cold and harsh. Noi brushed it off and continued as she withdrrew a scroll from her sleeve and laid it out on the table. It was an ink painting.

The painting portrayed a man whose armor was torn off, body bloodied, thrusting his spear forth into a creature's face---directly at its eyes. The being was cloaked in all black, resembling a mutilated corpse but only with horns, howling in pain. The man seemed to be the victor of that battle, his expression that of fear and the will to survive.

"The way to survive... well, it's a bit of a gamble, really. If you succeed, then it will have the effect you're going for. It's succeeding that's the problem."

"Either I die by getting my soul taken, or I die by being cut down by the death god. Gambling with the odds against me... So, how do I do it?"

"It's all in the eyes." Noi tapped her finger on the painting, on the spot where the spear met the death god's face. "Their power lies in their eyes. Legend says that if you slash a shinigami's eyes out, they lose all their power, and the ability to escape back into the other realm."

"That's it?" Kyohei's eyebrows flew into his layers of blond hair. "All I have to do is cut its eyeballs out?"

"It's not as simple as it sounds." Noi frowned as she dug around in her sleeves again. "Shinigami have a sixth sense since they cannot _see._ However, they can sense the aura of humans and are quite adept in combat. You're also put at a disadvantage because weapons can't hurt them."

"Then _what the hell_!?" Quite impatient, Noi noted when Kyohei snapped. "How am I supposed to defeat it then?"

"By using this blade." In her hands was a rather brittle and ancient blade that looked like it could barely survive a fight against a rabbit, let alone a death god.

"How is _that_ going to help me!?"

"It's made from sacred materials. My grandmother used it against the death god out for her and it worked rather nicely." At the disbelief and doubt plastered on Kyohei's face, Noi explained. "Humans give off auras. Not only are regular weapons useless, they suck the aura of the humans into it. Death gods can sense auras in place of actually seeing the blade, so you have no hope against them unless for some reason you're superhuman, which sir, you are not." Kyohei sputtered indignantly.

"I'm at the top of my class when it comes to physical shape! I'm the national champion when it comes to kendo, jujitsu, and several other forms of fighting!"

"Be that as it may, you are nowhere near fast enough."

"Then, oh great oracle, how am I even supposed to get near the death god so I can destroy the all-seeing eyes?"

"Trickery. This blade purifies your aura and erases it, so they won't be able to follow it. That's why I said it's a gamble."

"I'll take my chances." She gently wrapped it up and handed it back to Kyohei, who accepted it and slid it into the breast pocket of his jacket.

"Well, do let me know if you're successful, although I'm sure I'll hear about it anyway." A prince being killed by a death god would make headlines for_ weeks_. Kyohei tilted his head down slightly in a nod before getting up, stumbling a bit from sitting in a position that nearly cut off all the blood circulation to his legs. Noi noticed and smirked, a little bit too arrogantly for Kyohei's taste as she waved to the guards. "My guards will escort you out."

"Not needed, I can show myself out the door. Thanks for the help." The prince shook his legs out a bit before strolling down the hall with a small wave of goodbye, disappearing out the doors. A minute later, and she could hear the distinct roar of a motorbike starting up. The rumbling continued before it became a constant roar, and a moment later, it faded away to silence again. She sighed as she ran her hands gently over the ink painting on the table in front of her.

"I hope fate is on your side, prince."

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BLAH! Sorry for my rushed writing and horrible lack of good synonyms for everything.  
Thanks to **DarkSmile** and **My Wicked Lovely** for the reviews. I hope I don't let you guys down!  
Next chapter: **Uninvited Guest**


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